spooning

with mr N. again, Squires, are we? need we have this discussion again, it is a simple question of vowel sounds, articulate, despise, he puts his grey fedora on the piano and coughs, dabs the corner of his mouth with the cuff of his shirt which trails ornate silk brocade,
thus spake, was it,
play some keith jarrett, start again, why not,
it seems there is a cost to immortality which it is my burden to bear,
play something original,
where is some trace of light some beam some beacon,
are we lost again at sea, she is as leaky as an unstaunched wench
one cries,
then came upon some mystery, lashed to the mast
and waving a jug of ale, bring it on, bring it on,
one more time that siren song,
haha, he says, picking up his hat in perfect pluperfect

“she is as leaky as an unstaunched wench” is from Shakespeare, Act One Scene One, “The Tempest”

Advertisements

Share this:

Like this:

Related

Note to me, function of the footnote and the tags, the footnote is for attribution, so i can say,
“she is as leaky as a unstaunched wench”
Shakespeare wrote that, not me, it is from the beginning of The Tempest, so don’t blaim me,
secondly the tags are for connecting the work to other bits of work so maybe i can get around to sorting them all out one day, nah, never gonna happen, rage on, i say,

~rolling on the floor roaring with laughter~
no mean feat this early in the morning.
“leaky as an unstauched wench” – muwahahaaa!!
~pouncing and kissing your nose~
funny man.
love that.yesterday tackled, today pounced, i feel like Calvin,

😉well i have read some of your poems and the smiling ones are cool, i remember one of you dressed in native finery, greens and gold and smiling and dancing, if you write another of those i will give you a giant spoonful comment,

From the very little I know of Nietsche, I think from a comic book version of his ideas, he didn’t believe in immortality. Isn’t that why he broke with schopenhauer, because Mr. S went to the opera and became convinced that art was a path to salvation? Ack! Confusing.

I like the giddy energy of this poem, and the bit from Shakespeare. I bet he took lines all the time and never attributed them to anyone. you found a very apt phrase for your musical piece.That is a magical comment, thankyou, confusing indeed, i have always thought that mr N is the funniest dying guy ever,

I’ve actually been thinking lately it would be fun to use lines or phrases from Shakespeare as “prompts” for poems. You did a great job. I like the whole dabs the corner of his mouth etc. section. I don’t think I can call it a sentence. I find your poems extremely hard to grasp. Everyone else seems to know what’s going on, like I’m sitting in a room with everyone speaking a foreign language I don’t understand.this is also a great comment, thankyou, relax, half the time i don’t know what’s going on til i read it all backwards, not the words, the little pieces, you see i have strange theory…

footsteps leading away...

“The struggle of literature is in fact a struggle to escape from the confines of language; it stretches out from the utmost limits of what can be said; what stirs literature is the call and attraction of what is not in the dictionary.”
Italo Calvino.

Thanks for visiting. Have a fantabulous day full of tiny miracles like unexpected flowers blooming,